


little lamb

by madamerenard



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, POV Alternating, Sexual Tension, Then Actual Sex, help i'm bad at tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-19 23:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19982359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamerenard/pseuds/madamerenard
Summary: Aulus mal Asina catches the attention of the eldest Galvus.





	little lamb

Emet-Selch strolled down the hallways of the research facility. It was nighttime, and everyone had gone home. Which was rather good for the presumed-dead Emperor. No nosy guards or, Zodiark forbid, his offspring to stick their noses in his business.

He stopped short when he heard shuffling. There was an office nearby that held some data, he remembered...but no one should be in this late. Intrigued, he made his way over and pushed the cracked door open.

There was a lilac-haired man stuffing papers into a satchel. He turned at the sound of the door creak, and revealed a pale face littered with wounds. His white lab coat, uniform of a high-ranking Garlean engineer, was burned and dirty. He peered at Emet-Selch with wild red eyes behind his thick frames, something like a cornered animal.

 _Who hurt you, little lamb?_ Emet-Selch thought without realizing it, feeling all at once that he needed to either provide succor or slaughter his enemies. The man looked him up and down, but quickly realized who it was he was looking at.

“Emperor Solus? Impossible...”

Emet-Selch shrugged. “And who might you be?”

The man squinted at him again, pondering over the dead Emperor in front of him. Finally, he spoke, giving a half-hearted salute: “Aulus mal Asina, of the XIIth Imperial Legion...formerly.”

Ah, the legion dispatched to Ala Mhigo? That explained his rough condition. He must have just survived the battle intact. But now he was...stealing research? “Well, it’s a pleasure. Might I inquire what it is you’re doing?”

Aulus didn’t seem to hear him, wine red eyes still scanning his form. He took a few short steps in approach before coming to a conclusion. “Cloning technology.”

Emet-Selch’s brows rose. This was no ordinary engineer. “Impressive.” But he could see the question on Aulus’ mind that he didn’t know how to ask, worrying his chapped pink lips with his teeth. “But I am the same Emperor you knew. Just a different vessel.”

“Fascinating,” Aulus replied, the gears visibly turning in his mind. “Then you must be able to transfer the soul itself...”

 _Oh, my little lamb. So much you do not know. I could tell you it all._ His thoughts were starting to get heady, and he shook his head to clear them. Aulus was a scrawny little thing even by mortal standards, and yet Emet-Selch could not stop staring at the long lashes dusting his sliced-up cheeks as his eyelids dropped in speculation.

“You did not answer my question, however,” the Ascian pressed gently.

“I...oh. Yes.” Aulus seemed to be pulled back into the present somewhat unwillingly. “I am leaving Garlemald.”

“And not just for a vacation, I assume. Any particular reason why?”

“Lord Zenos is dead. I have no more allies here,” Aulus replied simply, turning back to his work.

“So you’re stealing highly classified imperial secrets and leaving?”

“This is _my_ research!” Aulus snapped, a heretofore unseen fire in his eyes. Emet-Selch was not about to admit how it stirred him. “Do you think any of those other fools could develop what I have? No!”

“...Then it would be a shame to lose you,” Emet-Selch sighed huskily. He stared at a very defensive engineer under hooded lashes. “What if you had an ally here? Would you stay?”

Aulus barely hesitated. “Of course. This is my home, I do not _wish_ to leave. But I have many enemies, and without Lord Zenos’ protection...”

“Forget my great-grandson.” Forget his grandson, too. Forget the entire Galvus family. Emet-Selch extended a gloved hand. “Come with me. I will be your ally.”

Aulus stared at the hand, then his eyes flicked to Emet-Selch’s. After a moment, his face cracked into a grin that Emet-Selch knew was madness. His great-grandson sure could pick ‘em.

* * *

Emperor Solus didn’t really _walk_ so much as _saunter along_ with a swagger in his step. Aulus didn’t remember him ever being so swanky, but then again, he was an old man even when Aulus was young. And that royal armor must have weighed him down remarkably. He looked considerably more relaxed now, jiving along with a song only he could hear.

“First things first, you need a bath. Desperately,” Solus hummed. Aulus flushed a brilliant red, though his state was hardly his own fault. He had awoken beaten and dizzy, climbed out of the muck and blood that stained that savage land, and stole on the first airship back to Garlemald.

He winced, rubbing at his neck. The ports in his back he used to interface with the Magitek Conveyor were damaged, and their sparks hurt him. But he didn’t have the resources to fix them right now...or for the foreseeable future.

If Solus noticed him shifting, he didn’t say anything. Instead, the former Emperor led him to an unused spare room and all but shoved him into the bathroom, waxing about getting him some new clothes while he washed up. Aulus didn’t have much of a choice, did he? So when Solus’ pitter patter of boots faded, he stripped down and climbed in the tub.

It felt nice to wash the grime of Ala Mhigo away. Aulus never particularly enjoyed Garlemald’s harsh climate, but in a land full of savages, he found himself missing home. Not to mention the bloody battle at the climax of the occupation. What possessed him to throw himself headlong into the path of the damned Warrior of Light? When he had barely passed the minimal military training required for his legion?

A combination of his research and his ego, he supposed.

He had gotten lost in his thoughts when a unique knock sounded off from the door. Aulus’ eyes widened as the door opened...but it only opened a crack, and only enough to expose a jacketed arm and white gloved hand holding a pile of clothes. “Delivery!” Solus singsonged, dropping the pile on the floor. “Take your time, though. I know how good a warm bath feels after a long battle.” The arm retreated, and the door shut.

Trying to calm the panic in his breast, Aulus let out a breath and stood to empty the tub and dry himself. He picked through the clothes - not any sort of Garlean uniform that he knew of, but still adequately suiting him. Some sort of alchemist attire, if he had to guess. By his Radiance, Solus had even bothered with undergarments. Well...it was appreciated, if embarrassing.

The coat felt unfamiliar and yet comfortable as he pulled it around his shoulders. He shook his glasses as he opened the door, trying to clear up the condensation, and stopped short when he saw Solus on the bed, facing directly towards the door, elbows on his knees and staring at Aulus piercingly.

There was a long silence. Aulus had assumed he would have waited outside the room altogether. But apparently he had been watching the door like a hawk, waiting.

“You look good,” Solus said finally. He nodded to Aulus’ old clothes, tucked in the scientist’s arm. “What do you plan to do with those?”

“Burn them,” Aulus sighed. “I just need to find a place to do that.”

Solus stuck out his hand. How his gloves remained so pristine and white, Aulus will never know. He obediently handed over his torn up uniform, and Solus took a mere moment before it burst into flames in his palms.

Aulus stared, dumbfounded.

“Ah...you didn’t know I could do magic, did you?” Solus inferred dryly.

Their eyes met. Aulus’ now had a bit more distrust in them than before. “Who are you...?”

“Why, your dear Emperor Solus zos Galvus. I wasn’t lying about that. But, perhaps if we’re to work together more closely, you should learn more than the name I went by in that mortal life.” Solus’ lips quirked in a friendly, and yet all too disconcerting, smile. “You may call me Emet-Selch.”

That name wasn’t common in any region Aulus was familiar with. He was starting to think there might be more to his Emperor than just a soul transferred to a clone. But Aulus saluted, dutifully. “Emet-Selch, then. Thank you for the clothes.”

Solus - _Emet-Selch_ \- waved him off. “Think naught of it, dear boy. It’s the least my ungrateful grandson can provide for you. After all...” Emet-Selch’s deep golden eyes regarded him intently. “’Twas you who discovered the secret of immortality, and promptly gifted it to his son. Was it not?”

“Immortality? No.” Aulus shook his head. “A source of power, undoubtedly. But the princeling’s corpse is enough proof that I have not yet triumphed over death.”

Emet-Selch leaned forward, his smile so sly and strangely warm. “Oh, little lamb, you have so much left to learn. I should like to be there when you discover it all.”

Aulus remained silent, his expression unchanging. If there was anything he learned from working in Garlemald, it was not to show your superiors any emotion. He didn’t want Emet-Selch to know just how much he unnerved him and piqued his curiosity all at once. He was there to do his duty.

“Come,” Emet-Selch said, getting to his feet with ease and reaching out for Aulus. “We have much to discuss.”

* * *

Aulus took the news of his true nature surprisingly well.

Emet-Selch suspected he had theorized something similar much earlier, though. Nothing gets past those scientific types. But he didn’t want to tip his entire hand yet, and so when Aulus pressed him with questions about his motives and origins, he slipped around them like an eel.

They were walking through the large halls of the imperial palace when Emet-Selch suddenly sensed approaching aether. Guards? Did Varis change up the schedule again? Honestly, he only delayed the inevitable, and Emet-Selch wasn’t even that irritated. It was more work for _him_ than it was for the Ascian.

He was about to disappear into an aetherial tear when he saw Aulus looking at him curiously. Damn, he forgot he was toting around a mortal. What to do?

The guards turned the corner, and Emet-Selch swept Aulus off to the wall, behind a pillar. Aulus’ breath hitched, and the immortal resisted the urge to laugh. They certainly were in a bit of precarious situation, pressed up against each other with no space between their chests. He could only imagine what was running through Aulus’ poor little head now, being in a position only his Empress was ever really in.

Aulus looked up at him, wide-eyed and heart pounding, and Emet-Selch lifted a gloved finger to his mouth in a shushing motion. The engineer swallowed hard and watched the passing guards nervously. Emet-Selch, however, had his eyes trained on the other. He was so short for a pureblooded Garlean, perfectly sized to hold for even the smallest Galvus. Through the layers of fresh clothing, he could feel ridges on his back - Magitek, the Ascian realized. He would know; he created it.

Aulus’ breaths were coming so short now, barely audible but not exactly silent. Emet-Selch wondered, idly, if perhaps it would have been better to pull him another way, with his back to the Emperor’s chest and a white glove over his pretty mouth--

Best not to continue that thought _here_.

As soon as the guards turned the corner, he released Aulus and tried not to make the uncomfortable shifting too obvious. Aulus, for his part, straightened his clothes and attempted to regain some semblance of dignity.

There was a really long, awkward silence that was not typical for Emet-Selch. He just couldn’t bluster some cocky, borderline flirtatious nonsense, not when he wanted nothing more than to pin the lilac-haired pretty boy against the wall and show him the vigor that gave him three sons. Aulus didn’t seem to know what to say either, his mind wiped clean of inquisitive questions.

Of all people, Elidibus saved them. Emet-Selch felt his aether approaching, and peeked out from behind the pillar to greet him. Aulus, seeing Zenos' towering body, predictably gasped, and, less predictably, huddled behind Emet-Selch. It would have been adorable had Emet-Selch not been so shocked. What exactly was the relationship between the engineer and his great-grandson?

Elidibus looked at Aulus, brow raising. He shot a bewildered, ‘you had better explain quickly’ look at Emet-Selch, who brushed it off. “Aulus, this is my coworker, Elidibus.”

Aulus shot him a look of his own that plainly read ‘do you really expect me to believe that?’.

“Not a jest, I assure you. Remember how we were talking about soul transference? Well, Elidibus simply took up residence in the vessel Zenos left. Elidibus, this is Aulus mal Asina, head engineer of the XIIth legion and the mastermind behind the Resonant.”

Aulus gave a somewhat confused imperial salute. “Though you can hardly call me _mal_ anymore.”

Emet-Selch glanced over to him, sly and curious. “Why? Do you want another title? I can give you anything, but be warned that these come with responsibility...”

“Well, I...” Aulus blinked. “I don’t know what to do now, exactly. I thought I’d be deep in Eorzea by now.”

 _Deep in Eorzea. Did he have to phrase it like that?_ Emet-Selch resisted the urge to shuffle, but somehow Elidibus still caught on, because he was leveling him with quite a look. Stupid Emissary. Not Emet-Selch’s fault the stick up his white-robed arse prevented him from getting laid, but it didn’t mean the rest of them had to suffer.

“You two can discuss it later,” Elidibus drawled, a tone that clearly meant he thought they would be doing much ‘discussing’. “Asina, it is a pleasure. Full glad am I that I need not play the spoiled princeling around you.”

“Full glad am I of that, too,” Emet-Selch added. “You’re an awful actor.”

“I am an actor playing two roles now, with very little assistance,” Elidibus answered, quite cross. “I should thank you to leave me be.”

Emet-Selch waved him off, clearly done with the bickering. Elidibus rolled Zenos’ blue eyes. “Well, don’t let me interrupt your intimate moment.” And he brushed past them.

Silence.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about, sometimes,” Emet-Selch said stiffly.

“Nor I,” Aulus agreed.

* * *

Emet-Selch spent the next few hours fielding questions and posing some of his own. They hid away in a spare room, tea (Emet-Selch), coffee (Aulus), and pastries (mostly Emet-Selch) set aside a megalith board. As it turned out, strategy wasn’t one of Aulus’ strong suits, but it provided them with something to busy their hands with.

Garleans were, by and large, a private people. But Aulus was a special kind of stubborn. Getting any personal information about him was like pulling teeth. The most Emet-Selch had gotten was an insight into his eating habits. He had all but shoved the pastries in Aulus’ mouth upon learning exactly how long he had gone without eating or drinking, but Aulus would not take more than a bite of anything. Upon pressing, Aulus admitted to having grown up with little. His body simply wasn’t accustomed to eating very much, even after his circumstances changed. That certainly explained his bony, frail frame.

As Emet-Selch was clearing the board after another resounding loss on Aulus’ part, he noticed the engineer’s head begin to dip. Was he about to vomit, perhaps, from the sweets? From the stress of it all?

As it stood...no. His head soundly met the table, and he slumped over. It took Emet-Selch a moment to realize that Aulus had not dropped dead, and had merely fallen asleep. It wasn’t so much of a drift into slumberland as it was getting bodyslammed into unconsciousness. He thought the dark circles under Aulus’ eyes were more of a permanent thing, but it occurred to him then that he may not have actually slept in quite some time.

He softly smiled to himself, getting to his feet and shuffling over. Hoisting the engineer up, he laid the grown man on the bed like he would one of his children. The Ascian then took his boots off and pulled the covers around him. Aulus looked quite peaceful in his sleep, the tension under his eyes from suspicion and stress smoothed out and relaxed.

Emet-Selch couldn’t help but brush away a lock of lilac hair from his warm, pale face as he removed his glasses and eyepiece.

...Hm. One of the magnifying lenses was cracked. He did a little bit of magic, and...there. Good as new. He set it down on the nightstand and leaned back in thought. What would he do now? Sleep did sound wonderful. However, the only comfortable accommodation was the bed.

Well, to hells with it. He’d rather be comfortable and awkward than uncomfortable and slightly less awkward. Emet-Selch took his own boots off and climbed into bed, propping himself up against the headboard. Aulus remained asleep next to him, head by his thigh, hair splayed on a satin pillow.

He really was a beautiful sight, and Emet-Selch drank it in for as long as he could before his eyelids grew heavy and he tumbled into slumber.

* * *

Aulus woke before him.

He had never needed much sleep, either. Just enough to stop his body from shutting down completely. Fortunately, he woke up in a nice, soft bed.

Unfortunately, he woke up to a face full of royal thigh.

Aulus blearily blinked and glanced up, squinting to make his vision any less blurry. His glasses were off, he realized. But even so, the unmistakable figure of the young Emperor Solus was undeniable. He appeared to still be asleep, long lashes dusting over dark eyes. Aulus squinted around and, spying his glasses on the bedside table, reached over Emet-Selch’s lap to take them. He could put the eyepiece on later.

Right now, he wanted to see Emet-Selch’s stolen face more clearly. The former Emperor slept soundly, even when Aulus was all but breathing his air. It wasn’t until the engineer put a hand on the same thigh he woke up to that Emet-Selch stirred, golden eyes fuzzy and vulnerable with sleep. “Aulus...”

Aulus cleared his throat, not moving his hand. “Good morning, your Radiance.”

Emet-Selch’s lips curled, and he chuckled. “Mm, good morning. Getting a bit bold with your Emperor, aren’t you?”

“Well...” Aulus pointedly still doesn’t pull away. “I am a scientist. I have questions that can only be answered through experimentation. And you are not my Emperor anymore.”

“Yet I am your Radiance,” Emet-Selch mused idly. He put his own gloved hand over Aulus’, thumb smoothing back and forth. They were so close, Aulus thought, their lips only a foot apart. Emet-Selch, despite his constant smug aura, seemed gentle and tender. What would happen if he were to get bolder? Did he have the courage?

“Have you ever had a partner before, Aulus?” Emet-Selch asked quietly, almost as if afraid to ruin the moment. “A male partner...?”

Aulus didn’t answer. The Ascian seemed unfazed by that.

“Do you want this, Aulus?” Emet-Selch murmured instead. “You have the look in your eye of a curious man, but tradition and fear and societal standards are pulling you apart.”

“Will you let me have it?” is the question Aulus posed in return.

Emet-Selch stared at him, eyes smoldering. “Anything.”

Aulus wasn’t sure who moved first. Maybe both of them did. They met in the middle as if of one mind, soft lips pressing against bitten and chapped ones, hands tightening on each other. Emet-Selch tasted cold, and sweet, and Aulus just could not taste enough for a thorough observation.

Emet-Selch was halfway through undressing him when he finally noticed a chill. The Ascian, to his credit, stopped when Aulus froze. But it took only a moment for the engineer to collect his thoughts, breathe out, and say: “No, continue.” And so Emet-Selch did, and soon his military robes and jacket were piled upon Aulus’ alchemist coat and slacks, and they were beneath the sheets as naked as their namedays.

Emet-Selch was less of a powerful lover (though he did seem like he was hiding quite a bit of strength in his lean form) and more of a precise one. He knew exactly which spots to stroke to make Aulus see stars. But he wasn’t the only one enjoying it - the painfully strained length pressed into the engineer’s thigh as Emet-Selch all but devoured his kiss-swollen lips was proof of that. He wasn’t certain when they agreed on their positional roles, so to speak, but he supposed there was very little chance he would dominate the founding father of Garlemald (in anything, much less bed)- who currently was trying his damned best not to tear him open as he slotted in.

As a frequent study of his own experiments, Aulus wasn’t a stranger to pain and didn’t quite break like a porcelain doll. But he had never had anything like this before, especially not with another. He could feel Emet-Selch’s hand on his arching back, soothing it comfortingly even as it was clear his yellow eyes were burning with lust. He made love to Aulus slow and hot; there was no need to be rough when they were both so strung out from just the union of their bodies.

After a while, Aulus almost lost himself in a daze. He vaguely registered the Ascian speeding up on top of him, and then suddenly Emet-Selch snapped his hips and emptied into him.

It dawned on the mortal then that he had just been claimed by his Emperor, the hot seed inside of him a symbol of his collar. In a sense, everyone in Garlemald was, but this was different. He wondered if this is what the Empress felt upon consummating their marriage. Did she know, he wondered, who he truly was? If not, could he possibly be closer to Emet-Selch than even his own wife?

He’s stirred from his thoughts by a cloth on his stomach, wiping up his own mess. Oh. When had he finished? Ah, yes, he remembered: not long before Emet-Selch did, with only a few helping pumps from the former Emperor’s bare hand.

Emet-Selch merely smiled at him as he slowly ambled his way back into reality. Setting the handkerchief aside, the Ascian kissed his damp forehead and settled into bed with him, an arm around his waist protectively.

“It’s...still morning,” Aulus slurred, glancing out the window. The birds were certainly chirping. “We should...”

“Hush. Time is subjective, and an illusion. Take a nap.” Emet-Selch patted his hip. “Tomorrow...or rather later today, that is...you will help me.”

“Yes, your Radiance,” the engineer mumbled without much thought. Then, upon further reflection: “...To do what?”

“Fix these holes in your back.” Emet-Selch pressed his lips on the skin below the one in the top of his spine. “I may be decrepit, but even _I_ can tell they’re malfunctioning.”

Aulus remained silent, not wanting to admit how much that offer touched him. Maybe he’d talk to him more, even if only about the Conveyor’s design. And maybe Emet-Selch might talk to him back, if only about the secrets of the universe.

For now, they would be quiet, slowly drinking in the morning light on their skin together.

**Author's Note:**

> me: i'm gonna write emet/aulus  
> katt: i owe you my life  
> me: *gun* i won't hesitate bitch hand it over


End file.
